


A Debt Paid

by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)



Series: Supernatural ABO Bingo 2017 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha John Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Non Consensual Mating Bite, Omega Dean, Pack Dynamics, Russian Castiel, SPN A/B/O Bingo, Scenting, Top Castiel, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/MsCaptainWinchester
Summary: When John tells Dean to clean up and get dressed to meet with some people to help their pack, the last thing he expects is a mating mark on his neck and an angry Russian alpha pointing a gun at his father's head.





	A Debt Paid

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written the fill the Public Claiming square on my SPN ABO Bingo card.

Dean is under the Impala tinkering when two sharp raps on the hood startle him enough to drop his rag. “Wrap it up. I gotta go meet with some guys, and you’re coming with me,” John calls down to him.

Dean rolls out from under the car with a frown. “What do you mean? What guys?”

“Just some guys. Clean up and get dressed. I left some clothes on the bed for you.” John walks away before Dean can ask more questions, gruff as usual. He hasn’t managed to look Dean in the eyes since Dean presented last year.

Dean grumbles to himself, but knows better than to argue. He takes a shower, making sure to scrub the grease from under his fingernails. He knows that’s what John meant by ‘clean up’. When he gets out, he does a thorough search of the bathroom cabinets, but his scent blocker is nowhere to be found. Confused, he decides to ask his dad about it once he’s dressed. The promised clothes are laid out like an offering on his bed, new jeans a darker wash than his normal, a black t-shirt that’s much softer than anything he’s ever owned before. There are even new socks and underwear and a pair of soft suede loafers laid out on the carpet.

Dean dresses as if on autopilot, mind turning over where the new duds came from and why his dad is set on him wearing them. He doesn't come up with any answers by the time he makes it back downstairs. John is standing at the kitchen counter, looking over some kind of paperwork. He checks Dean over without looking him in the eye and nods. "Let's go, then."

Dean hesitates in the doorway. "I couldn't find my scent blocker. Do you know where it went?"

"You don't need it. We're going to be late." It isn't an answer, but it's apparently all he's going to get, which is a surprise. John hasn't let him leave house without blockers since he presented. He follows his dad out to the garage and climbs into the Impala without another word.

“So who are these guys, then?” Dean asks after they'd been driving across town for a good ten minutes. Dean has been trying to figure out where they might be going, but they crossed into territory he’s not allowed to go in a few blocks back.

John shifts in his seat, but it’s too much to expect eye contact. “Another pack. I made a deal with them that's going to help keep us in the black. We're going to settle it.”

“Okay..." Dean is still confused as to why he had to wear new clothes. "So, am I your back-up if something goes wrong...?"

"The pack leader likes omegas."

Dean doesn't know what to say to that. Is he being pimped out? Is he supposed to be a distraction? Should he even ask?  Before he can decide, they pull up to a large factory building, the sounds of heavy machinery drowning out the Impala's engine. He gets out after John, nervous now that they're standing in front of the place. It's pretty obvious this isn't a pack on the up-and-up. John grabs a file folder from the back seat and heads for the building.

He follows his dad through a side door and into a warehouse that could have no other purpose but as an illegal chop shop. Cars are lined up in bays, guys in jump suits dismantling them, yelling at each other in what sounds like Russian or Czech. He wouldn't even have been able to guess that something like this existed in Kansas, let alone figure out how his dad got involved with them. A hush follows them, work suddenly stopping as they pass. The eyes that follow him as he follows his dad have him on edge. Are they trying to intimidate them? Are they going to find themselves at the wrong end of a gun if they move wrong?

John stops in front of a wooden staircase that leads up to a windowed office. Dean can see several older men inside talking. They're all wearing suits, expensive ones if Dean had to guess. The youngest of them stops talking as soon as he spots the two of them, eyes zoning in on Dean. He's attractive, with thick, wild-looking dark hair and eyes the color of the sky on a beautiful spring day. Dean forgets where he is for a moment, looking into those eyes. But then the group of men are filing out of the office and down the rough-hewn steps one at a time, all solemn. All looking at Dean.

The younger guy is the last to descend, breaking eye contact with Dean only when he reaches the concrete floor. Even though he's clearly the youngest of them, Dean gets the sense that he's in charge. He calls something out to the warehouse at large and the workers start gathering around them in a wide circle. Dean turns to his dad, not sure what's supposed to be happening. The men murmur to each other in their language—Dean isn't smart enough to know which one, except that it's Eastern European. John watches them, tension all the way down his spine.

"This is Dean?" The youngest asks once the last stragglers have put their work down and joined the gathering. His voice is deeper than Dean would have expected, a trace of an accent trailing his words. Dean has no idea why the guy knows what his name is, but he's definitely starting to suspect he's being pimped out. He shoots his dad a look.

"Dean, go say hello. This is Castiel Krushnic, head alpha of the Krushnic pack," John tells him in a flat, emotionless tone, still not looking at Dean.

Dean looks from his dad to Krushnic, hyperaware that he could have a gun trained on him any second if he doesn't comply. All of the sounds of machinery have gone quiet, and Dean can hear his own heartbeat loud in his ears in the silence. Dean can feel the eyes of dozens of men on him. He isn't on board with what's going down, but he also doesn't need to be shot. He does what he's asked, stepping up to Krushnic and holding out his hand, trying with everything he has not to let it tremble. "Nice to meet you."

Krushnic looks at his hand with a tiny quirk of the lip, but doesn't move to take it. Instead, he wraps a hand around the back of Dean's neck and pulls him in to scent him. Dean holds in his instinct to jerk away from the violation, praying that this is a cultural thing and not an intentional gross violation of his personal space meant to intimidate the fuck out of him. If it is, it's working. He's never let an alpha who wasn't pack scent him, and this guy is all alpha, his scent thick and woodsy and so good it makes Dean's insides curl up and submit. He hates it.

Krushnic pulls away with a pleased smile, stroking his thumb along Dean's jaw as their eyes meet. "You are quite lovely, Dean. Quite lovely."

Dean isn't sure how to respond. Krushnic turns to John, thumb still stroking Dean's cheek. "Consider your debt paid in full, John. Thank you for this gift," he says.

Alarm bells go off in Dean's head. What debt is this guy talking about, and what is he going to have to do to make up for whatever it is? This was supposed to be a deal between packs. He doubts a night with a pack omega is going to be enough to settle whatever deal they've made.

And he's right. Krushnic turns back to him and pulls him back in, scenting him once more before sinking his teeth into Dean's mating gland. Dean goes pliant instantly, unable to fight against his muscle instinct, mind quiet in the after as his body acclimates to the scent and feel of his new mate. He can feel Krushnic's erection hard against his leg, feel his own arousal rushing up with the flood of new hormones bursting through his blood stream. The teeth are slowly extracted, and with it all instincts to submit.

Dean pulls back and punches the guy, putting all his strength into it. He doesn't care how many weres are watching. He might be semi-willing to go along with fucking an alpha for a night as payment, but he never agreed to a fucking mate. "What the fuck?!" he shouts, but it's drowned out by a chorus of words he doesn't understand coming from the gathered pack.

Krushnic pulls a gun, but he points it over Dean's shoulder, at John instead of Dean himself. He's yelling in whatever language they speak, until he isn't, glaring daggers at Dean's dad over Dean's shoulder. "What is this? You said he was willing," Krushnic barks out, his accent thicker in his anger.

Dean waves his hands in the air, panicked that his gut reaction is going to end with a bullet in both their heads. "Woah, woah, you don't need that. Let's figure this out."

"Shut up, boy, you've done enough damage," John growls.

Krushnic takes a step closer, right in Dean's personal space. His eyes are blood red, pure alpha like Dean has never seen before. "You will not speak to him like that again, or I will put a bullet through your head."

Dean puts a hand on his chest to try to calm him down. If what he's picking up of the situation is correct, he's as pissed at his dad as anyone, but he doesn't want him dead. Their pack needs an alpha, and Sam's too young. "Look, I think I've got the most right to be pissed in this situation, but could you put the gun down, please?"

Krushnic ignores him. "I was very clear in our discussions that your son was to consent to this mating, or I did not want him. I am not a rapist." There was more, growled phrases that Dean couldn't even begin to decipher. He tries to ignore the clenched fist around the gun handle and focus on projecting soothing vibes, but he's too angry himself still for it to work.

"Dean does what he's told. He was mine to give you, and I did. That was the agreement. Too late to back out on it. He's yours now. The deal is done," John states in a simple, no-nonsense way, as if what he's just said is completely reasonable. As if it was totally normal to treat his son like a fucking throw rug.

Dean can't help the growl rumbling up his chest as he turns to look his father in the eye for the first time in a year. "I'm not a piece of furniture you want to get rid of. I'm your son."

"And you were supposed to be an alpha and take care of the pack when I couldn't anymore, but that's not what happened, is it? We needed this alliance."

"And if you'd asked, maybe I would have agreed to it. But you didn't even give me a chance, did you?"

Krushnic snarls something in his mother tongue, low but loud next to Dean's ear. Dean hadn't even realized he'd pressed up against his new alpha. He looks up and behind him to Krushnic, eyes still alpha red with anger. "You lied to me," he says, and Dean thinks maybe he's repeating himself in English this time.

"Does it matter? It's done now. You got your mate. Are you gonna shoot me in front of him?" John says.

"No." Some of the red bleeds out of his eyes, the startling blue of them coming back as Krushnic seems to settle himself a little. "I am going to explain our agreement to Dean and let him decide what he thinks should be done about you. It is him you have wronged, after all." He drops the gun, but Dean notices he doesn't put it away quite yet. "Come up to the office. We will talk."

He indicates the stairs up to the glassed-in office and waits for John to go first. Once John does, he nudges Dean up the stairs after him, turning before ascending himself to speak to the assembled weres. None of them look particularly happy, but he says something sharp to them, and it gets them all moving back to their stations. Dean doesn't hear the machinery turn back on, though.

The office is more luxurious than he would have expected from the exterior, smooth cherry floors and a sleek, expensive-looking desk with a high-backed chair set behind it and half a dozen matching accent chairs set around it. Krushnic pushes John into one with a hand on his shoulder and a sharp look. He pulls one of the accent chairs over behind the desk and indicates that Dean should sit in it. He takes the high-backed chair for his own. Dean notices the other men in suits don't follow them up.

"Dean, are you comfortable? Would you like water? Something stronger? A pain killer, perhaps? We can clean your bite when I take you back to the house. If that is a thing you want, of course."

Dean digs his fingernails into his palms and tries to stay calm. "Just tell me what's going on, please."

"Right, of course. To business." The red has faded away from his irises, leaving the cool blue that is so easy to get lost in. "I don't know how much your father has told you about pack business, but six months ago a tree fell through the roof of your pack's auto shop."

"Yeah, I was there. What does that have to do with this?"

"Your father needed money to repair the damage and cover costs until the shop could operate once more."

"We had insurance." Dean looks to his dad, who is looking at the ground, his jaw clenched tight.

"I assume that is what he told you, but that was not the case. John borrowed the money from my father, who was pack leader before me." He mutters what sounds like a prayer under his breath, and Dean guesses that means the guy died. "When the time came to repay his debt, John informed me that he did not have the money. I offered your father a deal. My father passed away three months ago, and I inherited pack leadership from him as the eldest alpha of his sons. As pack leader, I am required to mate and produce an heir. I have not had the time to fulfill this part of my duties yet. I told John if he could provide me a consenting omega to mate from his pack, then I would forgive his debts."

"And he offered his omega son. Kill two birds with one stone, right Dad? Sell me off so you don't have to deal with me anymore, and no one in the pack has to know you lied about the money. What happened to the insurance? We definitely had it." Dean was the one who sorted the mail. He'd seen the paperwork.

"I missed a payment. We weren't covered when the tree went down," John tells his boots.

"Look your son in the eyes when you speak to him, you coward," Krushnic snaps at him.

John growls back, eyes rimming in red as he glares at Krushnic. "Kill me if you want to, but you aren't going to tell me how to talk to my son."

Dean furrows his brow, the throbbing of his neck reminding him of why they're sitting there. "I'm not your son anymore. You gave me away."

"And what do you want to do about that?" Krushnic asks, voice low and dangerous as he gazes at Dean. Something wicked lives in his eyes, the kind of violence that gets someone to the head of a wolf pack as large and unsavory-looking as what Dean saw outside. It isn’t as intimidating as he would have expected. He kind of likes it.

“What options do I have?”

“I could kill him, take over your former pack and bring them into the fold.” Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t want his dad dead, and even if he did, the Winchester pack is too soft to survive an environment like this. “No? I can see now you are going to take away all of my fun. Fine, we can force him to pay the money owed with 300% interest.”

“The rest of the pack doesn’t deserve to be in your debt forever. They didn’t ask for this.”

“What would you like, then?”

Dean hesitates, thinking it over. He wants his dad to suffer the consequences of what he’s done. Taking away Dean’s choices, shoving him into a new, dangerous-looking pack, forcing a mating on him to a complete stranger. “I want the Impala,” he says without realizing he meant to. The Impala is the only physical object he’s ever cared about, and it would be a huge blow to his dad to take it away from him. “And I want you to tell the entire pack what you did. Why I’m gone and that you didn’t even tell me you were mating me off.”

John narrows his eyes. “You can’t take anything into this pack, boy. That’s why I didn’t have you pack a bag. He bought you those clothes.” He indicates the clothes Dean’s wearing with a lazy wave of his hand.

Dean furrows his brow, looking down at the dark wash jeans and the softer shirt. “What do you mean?”

“He is correct. When a new member enters our pack, they enter without any of their possessions. You don’t need to worry, though. I have provided you with new things. I will show you when we go home. If you decide you are willing to go home with me.”

Like he has much of a choice. Where else would he go? He doesn’t ask, focused on the sick feeling in his stomach. “So I can’t take the Impala from him?”

Krushnic tilts his head to the side, eyes on Dean without being focused. He turns to John after a long moment of quiet. “You owe me $50,000, with an additional $10,000 in interest. You have given me an omega mate who did not consent to his mating in payment. Neither my new mate nor I consider this enough compensation for the considerable financial loss. I could confiscate your car to recoup my losses. If I were to give it to Dean as a mating gift, that is my business.”

John is obviously not a fan of this suggestion if his face is anything to go by. “How am I supposed to get home?”

“Call a cab,” Dean suggests. John looks like he might want to throttle Dean for the suggestion, but Dean cannot care about that. John crossed too many lines. "And I want to see Sammy at least once a month. If that's okay?" He turns to Krushnic, suddenly unsure of himself. Is he going to be allowed to talk to his former pack now that he's been claimed? Dread forms in his belly and a cold sweat creeps up his neck. What if he's not allowed to see Sammy again?

Krushnic curls a hand around his wrist and rubs his thumb along Dean's. "Of course, myshka. Whatever you want. Sam is your brother, no?"

"Yeah. He's still in high school."

"I can't stop Sam from doing whatever he wants. You know that," John says, giving Dean a look.

Dean nods, feeling a little of the worry dissipate. At least there's that. "Yeah, okay."

"Would you like anything else?"

"No, the Impala's enough."

"Do you wish to say goodbye?"

Dean looks his dad over, anger still simmering in the back of his mind. "No."

Krushnic stares John down. "Set the keys on the desk and go. I suggest you find a means to leave the premises quickly. I will not be responsible for what my weres do to you should you linger."

John glares back at them both, standing and fishing his keys out of his pocket and pulling the Impala keys off of the ring. He slams the file folder he'd brought in on the desk and the keys on top of them. "I'll send her papers in the mail."

"Thank you."

Krushnic stares him down until he leaves, slamming the door behind him hard enough to make the glass rattle. They sit in the silence after, Dean tense and unsure what happens now. Krushnic had said he wasn't a rapist, but does that mean he won't make Dean consummate their mating right away, or that he won't be happy that he has to do it against Dean's will? His thumb is still rubbing up and down Dean's wrist.

"I am very sorry your father did this to you, myshka. Let's get your bite mark cleaned up, and then we can talk." He moves his hand to open a desk drawer and pulls out a first aid kit. Dean watches him pull out alcohol wipes, ointment, and a large bandage. He turns to Dean with a questioning brow. "May I?"

Dean bares his neck, wincing at the sting of the alcohol wipe. It burns as it disinfects, but he manages to breathe through the pain. The ointment after is only a little better, stinging but tolerable. The sound of the bandage opening is loud in the otherwise quiet of the room. Dean wonders why the sounds of machinery haven't started back up again, especially since he can see that some of the mechanics have gotten back to work, but he doesn't say anything. Krushnic applies the bandage with gentle prodding, cautious not to hurt Dean.

While he cleans up and puts the kit away, Dean takes stock of the situation. He can feel the hormones twisting through his blood stream, changing his biological make-up to make him more susceptible to his new alpha's influence. So far, Krushnic has been kind to him, but how long will that last? What is he going to expect of Dean as his omega? Was Dean going to have to stay at home and take care of a litter of pups? How soon was he going to be expected to let Krushnic breed him? He said he needed an heir to secure his power. That didn't sound like a far-off-in-the-future type of plan.

"This is a lot to take in, I know. Ideally, your father would have prepared you for mating and let you know what to expect. Or at least told you something about me. Can I assume he did not?"

"I didn't know you existed until today, sir."

A pained look crosses Krushnic's face. "Please call me Castiel. I want us—my goal was for us to become partners. Equal partners. I will always lead the pack, but our _Vor Omega_ has always taken a respected position in our hierarchy."

Dean nods, but doesn't speak. He doesn't know what to say.

"You have many questions, but perhaps are not sure how to ask them, yes?" Dean nods again, and Castiel smiles at him. "I thought so. If you had consented, I would be taking you home right now to mate with you fully. Because you did now, I think it better to get to know each other first, da? I have a separate room set up for you in my home. For now, you may do what you like.”

“What about, like, pups and stuff? You said you needed an heir.”

“That can wait for now. If not mated, what did you want to do with your life?”

Dean frowns. No one’s ever asked him that before. Omegas in the Winchester pack didn’t do anything but mate and have pups. Before he presented, he’d been apprenticing as a mechanic, intending to take over the business and the pack when his dad was old enough to retire. But all of that had flown out the window with Dean’s first heat, and he hadn’t bothered planning after that. He figured he would eventually find an alpha, or meet one through pack alliance, mate, and that would be it. And that was exactly what happened, though he had thought he’d at least get a say in who and how he mated. “I never really had a plan. I was gonna be pack alpha until I presented omega. Dad—our pack didn’t leave a lot of room for omegas to do anything but mate and breed.”

Castiel considers this, eyes connected to Dean’s in an intense, unblinking way that makes Dean’s heartrate increase for reasons he can’t pin down. “Why did you ask for your father’s car?” he asks after a long silence.

Dean hesitates. How does he explain what the Impala means to him? What it meant to his dad? What kind of blow losing it would mean to John? “The Impala was my dad’s first car. He bought it right before he asked my mom to mate. She loved that car more than he did, I think. She used to take me out on long drives when I was little. They’re a few of my only memories of her. She died when I was four in a house fire. And we lived in the car for a couple of years before Dad met Bobby Singer and joined his pack.”

“The pack he now leads?”

“Yeah. Bobby got shot a couple years ago, and Dad was his second.”

Castiel nods. “Go on.”

“There’s not much more to it. I learned to drive in that car. It got totaled a couple years ago, and Dad and I rebuilt it from the ground up. I know it better than anything.”

“You can fix cars, then?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel’s lip quirks up on one side and he sweeps a hand to indicate the warehouse around them. “If you notice, cars are our business.”

Dean nods, but he isn’t sure what Castiel’s trying to tell him.

“You may work in the shop if you like.”

“Aren’t you fencing cars?”

“Of course not. That would be illegal.” His smile is all mischief now. Tension unfurls just a little inside of Dean. “Would you like a tour? I’m sure the pack would like to meet their new _Vor Omega_.”

“What does that mean?”

“ _Vor Omega_? It is our term for the Head Alpha’s omega. It is a term of respect.”

“What country are you from?”

Castiel smiles, amusement in his eyes. “I am American, same as you.”

Dean rolls his eyes before he can catch himself. “I mean what language are you guys speaking?”

“I know, myshka. I mess with you. We are Russian.” He stands and holds a hand out to help Dean out of his seat. Dean isn’t a fan of that kind of chivalry, but he lets Castiel help him up anyway.

"What’s myshka?”

“It means mouse. It’s a term of affection. If you do not like it, I won’t use it anymore.”

Dean frowns. Mouse is a weird term of endearment, but he can deal. “It’s fine.”

Castiel gives him a blinding smile and holds out his arm indicating that Dean should precede him out. “Come, I will show you our empire.”

-

Standing in his new bedroom, surrounded by all the new things Castiel bought for him is a little overwhelming. His pack had never had much money. Possessions usually had had an owner or two before they ever got to Dean. But everything in this room is new, and was purchased specifically for him, because Castiel thought they would make him feel more at home. It makes all of this feel a little more permanent, a little more real. His stomach lurches.

“Is that a record player?” he asks, latching on to the turn style sitting on top of a large sound system to distract himself. There are bins of records underneath, and they all look vintage. Old school, the way Dean likes his music.

“Your father told me you enjoyed music. I thought you might enjoy listening to it the way it was meant to be heard.”

Dean wanders over to the player and thumbs through the records, amazed to see so many of his favorites. Some of them must have been difficult to get ahold of. He pulls out a copy of Agents of Fortune and sets it on the spindle, but then pauses. “I don’t know how to…”

He feels the heat of Castiel behind him before he’s done asking for help, his hands moving the needle where it needs to be and switching the player on. (Don’t) Fear the Reaper curls its way through the room, a familiar blanket wrapping around Dean and soothing his unease. Dean drifts closer to Castiel, letting instinct guide him to where he can find comfort. Castiel cups his face in his hands and kisses his forehead, the tenderness of the gesture softer than anything Dean has ever been given. “This is not how I wanted our life together to start, but we will figure this out, myshka, I promise you. Together.”

Dean nods. He lets Castiel wrap him up in his arms and hold him close, their foreheads pressed together. Castiel’s scent is soothing to his system, grounding. He tilts his head up, wanting more of it if only as a distraction. Castiel is hesitant when their lips meet, responding as if Dean were made of glass, but only until Dean licks into his mouth. His fingers dig into Dean’s sides as Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ neck and all-but climbs up his body until his feet are off the ground, and Castiel is walking him over to a chair.

Dean scrabbles for the hem of Cas’ shirt, pulling it up without bothering to unbutton it. Castiel deposits him in the high-backed chair and kneels between his spread knees, only pulling away from his mouth long enough for Dean to pull the shirt over his head before diving back in. His mouth is hot and insistent against Dean’s, kisses the kind of dirty that curls his toes. He wraps his legs around Cas’ waist, rubbing his feet over Cas’ perfectly rounded ass as they rut against each other. Dean can feel scars under his fingers, what feel like claw marks running up Castiel’s back. He likes the sound of Cas groaning low in his throat every time Dean strokes one.

Cas makes a noise of impatience and pulls away enough to strip Dean’s shirt off, and then they’re chest-to-chest, and Dean can’t help the whine of pleasure at the contact. He drops a hand to Cas’ inseam, cupping the thick shaft he finds there and exploring it’s length with his palm.

Castiel pulls away, eyes the deep alpha red of before tinged with concern. “Are you sure?” he asks, his accent thick with lust.

Dean gets a firm grip on his shaft through his trouser leg, licking his top lip as he meets Cas’ eyes. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think about anything but you.”

Cas growls and dives in again, latching on to Dean’s tongue and sucking hard as slick soaks the back of Dean’s jeans. A frantic few minutes later, their pants are both off and Castiel is stroking fingers over Dean’s slick hole, teasing him without pushing inside. Dean grows frustrated and shoves Cas down back onto the carpet, straddling him even as their kisses continue between snarls and sharp nips of teeth to lips and chins.

Dean reaches behind himself and shoves two fingers in, not worrying about being careful with prep. He wants Castiel’s dick in him, and he wants it fast. Castiel makes quiet growling noises as Dean slides their cocks together between their chests, his slick dripping down to coat Cas’ balls. He grows impatient and pulls his fingers out, using the slick that soaks them to wet the round head of Cas’ cock before sinking down on it with a satisfied moan. It’s tight and little sparks of pain shoot up his spine with every inch he manages, but it’s worth it for the fullness inside him.

He plants both hands firmly on Cas’ chest and raises up to drop back down, the slide of Cas inside him better than any beta he’s ever let fuck him. Cas gets two handfuls of his ass to help him along, lifting him and shoving his hips up against every downward thrust. Dean cries out with every sharp stroke to his prostate, grinding down on Cas every few strokes until he begins seeing stars at the edges of his vision.

Cas doesn’t let it go on for much longer before he’s rolling Dean onto his back and pressing Dean’s knees into his chest to fuck into him with all the strength of his alpha muscles. Each hard thrust into him sends of a jolt of pleasure up his spine, forcing helpless cries from him and pleading demands to be fucked harder. “Please, Alpha, cum in me. I want your cum so bad. Fuck me. Fuckme. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck!” He’s a sobbing mess by the time his body convulses in orgasm and spills his thin, watery cum all over his belly and chest.

Castiel fucks him through it, growling into his throat and pressing his legs down in an impossible stretch. He rips the bandage off Dean’s neck as his rhythm begins to falter, and then he’s cumming inside Dean and biting his mating mark for a second time, teeth clenched hard against his throat as endorphins flood Dean’s system again, causing him to shoot a second, smaller load as his ass is filled with more.

In the aftermath, Cas drops Dean’s legs to the sides and collapses onto his chest, nose buried in Dean’s wet, bleeding neck as their matching heartrates calm to normal speeds. Dean stares up at the ceiling and marvels at the burning stretch of having a real knot inside him for the first time in his life, wrapping his legs around Cas’ waist to keep him buried deep inside, not knowing how long his knot will last and not wanting him to pull away when it does, if only to hold off facing reality again.

“I apologize,” Castiel says a while later, lifting up onto his elbows above Dean, his mouth edged red with Dean’s blood. His knot rubs slow and soft against Dean’s prostate as his hips shift with the movement.

“Huh?” Dean asks, attention moving from the ceiling to the man hovering above him with furrowed brow and watery, sad eyes.

“Your first time should not have been rutting on a rug like animals. You deserve a bed and a seduction of more than two seconds.”

Dean can’t help but snort amusement at the look on his face. There’s no chance Castiel hasn’t killed a man, but he’s concerned about romance with the omega he’s known less than a day. It’s sort of endearing. “You’re my first alpha, but this definitely wasn’t my first time, don’t worry. I liked getting fucked long before I presented omega.”

Castiel continues to frown. “Your father told me you were a virgin.”

“Yeah well, there’s a lot Dad doesn’t know. Not like anyone in the pack wanted him to know his omega son was getting fucked by half the betas in the pack, is it?” Dean frowns himself, worry suddenly reminding him who he’s talking to. The knot shifting inside him had lulled him into forgetting the reality of his situation. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Castiel studies him for a long, silent moment. “How many men have you had?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I am curious.”

“Are you going to have them killed if I tell you?”

“Why would I have them killed?”

“For fucking your omega before you got to.”

“Until today, you were not my omega. If they touch you now, then I kill them.” He looks amused, but Dean is all-too-aware that it isn’t a joke.

“Seven.”

“And they were all betas from your pack?”

“Dad didn’t let me go out on my own much after I presented.”

Castiel is quiet for another long moment, but then he’s grinding his knot up into Dean and grabbing a fist full of his hair and growling in his ear, “Did they fuck you as good as I do?”

Dean moans long and loud, clutching at Cas’ ass in encouragement. His knot rubs harsh circles into Dean’s prostate, blinding him with how good it feels. “Fuck no. You fuck me so good, Alpha,” he gasps, arching into the movement.

“I thought so. I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll forget about anyone but me.” And then he’s pulling back, stretching Dean’s hole impossibly wide around the edge of his knot before shoving back in again, and Dean is a puddle of frayed nerves and fucked-out pleasure in his hands.

-

Later, much later, he lets his alpha curl around him in bed, nose snuffled in Dean’s neck and his thick arms wrapped around Dean’s chest, fingers tangled with Dean’s against his heart. Dean may have a long way to go before this feels like home, but at least he knows they’re on the same page for one thing. The dull throb in his ass and the teeth marks that litter his body are proof enough of that. It takes him a long time to fall asleep, but when he finally manages it, he’s something like okay.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon) or Tumblr at [MsCaptainWinchester](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/).


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